Be Careful What You Wish For
by Elenothar
Summary: AU. Anakin made a different decision and left the Jedi Order, leaving one broken Jedi behind.


Author: ObiBettina7

Genre: Angst, tragedy

Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Padme Amidala, Quinlan Vos, Bant

Warnings: Character death

Be Careful What You Wish For

Part I

The Halls of Healing were quiet as one weary Jedi entered, slowly making his way to his destination by muscle memory alone, his mind visibly eons away.

Bant looked up from her datapad as he entered her examination room. "Obi!" she gasped, her voice softening to a more sympathetic whisper. "Again?"

Obi-Wan nodded tersely. "It's getting worse."

"Sit down." Closing her eyes, Bant reached out to the Force. Her healing talent illuminated her patients body creating the transparency in her mind's eye she needed to diagnose illnesses. Though in his case she hardly needed that extra help to see the problem. The black abscess in his lungs she had first seen as a small dot about six months ago was steadily growing in size and nastiness.

Feeling sick with the knowledge she could no longer deny, Bant withdrew her senses from her friends ailing body and opened her eyes. A pair of crystal clear blue-gray eyes were watching here, reflecting the suspicion bordering on knowledge their bearer already harbored.

Taking a deep breath, Bant said, "You were right about the infection. We can't stop it from spreading."

A soft exhale of air was his only reaction to the devastating news. "I thought so." Blue eyes met her silver ones. "How long do I have?"

Bant had to swallow a hysterical laugh. This was such a typical Obi-reaction. How could he be so strong talking about his own _death_? "We don't know, precisely. Two to three years, depending on how much you strain yourself."

"Good, that gives me some time." His lips quirked in his trademark dry smile. "Any advice from my personal, fussy healer?"

"Obi, please take it easy. Any straining activities on your part will accelerate the process," Bant pleaded, her voice deadly serious. One webbed hand found his smooth one and squeezed. "The pain will get worse – and it won't go away."

He squeezed her hand reassuringly in return. "I know. I'll manage."

Tears pricked at Bant's silvery eyes. Wasn't there something wrong with the dying man comforting the healthy? Shouldn't it be the other way around? But the simple truth was, _'_ _No, not for Obi. He always has to turn all rules upside down and get his selfless, stubborn way.'_

She watched him go, only the slightest slump hinting at his condition, wondering not for the first time how often she was still going to see him again.

The Temple Gardens had always held a great attraction to Obi-Wan, ever since his creche master had brought him there for the first time when he was a small initiate, the greens and blues, rustling of leaves and dripping of water soothing to his spirit. Lately he found himself searching for refuge of the Jedi Temple's bustling life there more and more often.  
_'Don't kid yourself, Obi-Wan. It is not the Temple you seek refuge from.'_  
Ever since his and Anakin's mission to Antar 4 and it's devastating aftermath he'd frequented the gardens whenever they actually were on Coruscant. At first because of a weariness permeating his very being, later because it was easier to soothe physical pain in such a pleasant environment, and now because he needed to find a peace of mind that was generally eluding him. It was not that he was specifically afraid to die, but that didn't mean he actually wanted to either. Still, he could accept his death. The issue weighting most on his mind, however, was different.  
He had yet to tell Anakin of his illness and impending death. And that was definitely not something he looked forward to.  
He could not deny, especially in his own mind, the fact that his former Padawan, however much he had tried to teach him to let go, did not, and probably never would, deal well with loss. Obi-Wan was uncertain if he actually had the will-power to shatter one of Anakin's last life-lines with news of his own impending death. For that same reason he had not yet talked to him about his illness – at all. _'And you also don't want to admit to him that you have kept something that big secret for so long'_. No, Anakin would not be happy. Not at all.

It was the middle of the night, the Coruscanti skyline glittering through the window as dark as it ever got. Having grown up on a remote outer rim planet Anakin had yet to get used to the glow of artificial lights in the nights – and the absence of stars twinkling in the night sky, which was about the only thing about the desert planet he might admit to missing (when really pressed - he did not like thinking about Tatooine).  
That was not the reason for his lying awake in the plush bed next to his wife, though. Rather it was the fact that he _was_ lying in bed next to his wife – his secret wife. The wife no one knew about. Ever since Obi-Wan's and his mission to Antar 4 he had gotten to thinking more about the life he was leading. They had both nearly died on that mission, and even though that wasn't really anything new, this time had been more disturbing than usual. Whether it was seeing his Master throw up blood constantly and then getting shot in front of his eyes, or his own near death experience, or the wide destruction and death on the planet itself, he could not tell; it all blended together in a haze of horrors he should have gotten used to by now, but never had. Judging by the haunted look in Obi-Wan's eyes he hadn't either. In any case the thought of dying, when the life he had led was a lie, dying when he hadn't even told his best friend that he was secretly married, dying when he would have had the chance of a life with his beloved Padme, was becoming more unbearable with every day he continued to live. Should he waste his life in a position that was not his heart's wish because of some obscure prophecy, or should he lead the life he wanted, side by side with his wife? So far sense of duty had kept him from the latter - and the fact that it would more likely than not break Obi-Wan's heart if he resigned from the Jedi Order. For all his stoic demeanor, he knew his former Master well, and also knew that he was as important to him as he was to himself, even though he never stated it that clearly. Instead it was visible in his actions, his worry for his old Padawan, his trust in him, subtle inflection in his voice, and in his expressive eyes. Over the years he had learned to recognize those signs, small as they were.  
Therefore his current predicament. In his heart he knew the choice that was right for himself, if there was such a thing as a right choice, as he had come to doubt that over the last years of worse choices following bad choices without any good alternatives.  
In the silence of the night, the struggle continued.

A new day had dawned, and with it new found resolve. Few Jedi were up as Anakin strode through silent halls, purposefully now that his mind was made up, yet apprehension simmered beneath the surface.  
This morning, Padme too had noticed it, and knowing what he'd been struggling with over the last few months, after one look at him she'd just asked in a perfect matter-of-fact voice, "You are going to tell him?". He had nodded, and that was all she needed to understand the situation completely.  
Therefore it really shouldn't have come as a surprise that Obi-Wan noticed that something was off the minute he opened the door for him. Tired blue-grey eyes gazing at him intently, he just said, "Come in, Anakin."  
Slightly bewildered, it seemed as if Obi-Wan had _expected _him to come, Anakin followed him inside, sitting down on the old care-worn couch with rather more care than usual. Obi-Wan vanished into the kitchen only to reappear two minutes later with steaming mugs of tea. Murmuring his thanks, Anakin accepted a mug, gingerly taking a sip. It was his favorite blend of herbs and fruit. He hadn't been much of a tea person when he had first come to the Temple - in fact he had never even heard of tea - but necessity soon dictated he at least become accustomed to it; Obi-Wan was a tea freak - a trait he had apparently picked up from Qui-Gon Jinn. Wherever the tradition had come from, however, after some time Anakin had come to like it.  
Taking another sip, he looked up at Obi-Wan, who had claimed the armchair and was watching him intently over the rim of his own mug. He did not ask Anakin to spill whatever was bothering him, but just sat waiting patiently, yet his posture conveyed openness.  
Anakin had to avert his eyes in shame. Doubtless his old Master thought it was just one of their usual talks about the war, or Anakin's multiple problems. He resisted the urge to snort aloud. _'Oh, how I wish it was so easy'_.

Finally he cleared his throat. "Obi-Wan, I have...something to tell you."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows twitched at this rather unusual use of his first name, and Anakin couldn't blame him. He had never gotten out of his habit of calling Obi-Wan "Master", even though he wasn't his Padawan anymore.

"I have been thinking about this for the last few months, and I..." he trailed off, unsure. He had immediately sensed the slight tensing of Obi-Wan's frame; it was barely perceptible and someone who didn't know him wouldn't have noticed, but Anakin _did_. And very well at that.

"Master?"

Obi-Wan waved his hand dismissively. "Carry on, Anakin. Don't worry about me."

He knew his dubiety showed on his face, but he accepted the decline - when Obi-Wan didn't want to talk about something no one and nothing got him to talk.  
"As I said I have been thinking, and," he took a deep breath, "I think it's the right thing for me to leave the Jedi Order."

For a moment, Obi-Wan just froze, completely reaction less. Then the shock, surprise, hurt, and most oddly, resignation showed on his face. Silence.

"I see." Obi-Wan's voice was soft, to the point of going unheard. This time hurt and still that odd resignation were most prominent. He bowed his head. "If you think that's the right path for you...I won't interfere."

Anakin fought the urge to gape. Whatever he had expected, it was certainly not this. All fight had seemed to leave Obi-Wan. He did not even make an effort to fight against the hurt, yet he level-headedly declared that it was alright - without even asking why he had come to this decision.

"Don't you at least want to know why?" he asked, his disbelief clear in his voice.

Obi-Wan shrugged, but there was a pinched look to his face. "I don't think you would make this decision lightly, Anakin. You must have your reasons."  
For a fraction of a second his gaze warmed. "And I wish you and Padme the best luck."

_'What?"_

"You know?"

Obi-Wan smiled wryly. "Do you think me completely blind, my dear former Padawan?"  
He smiled, but there was no happiness in it, only sadness. "I have known for a long time."

For once in his life Anakin was completely speechless. Obi-Wan had _known_? He had known and he hadn't told the council? For that matter, he hadn't confronted him about the danger of attachments? But he had, that day they had been sent to protect Padme; before the war, before the bloodshed, before the last shred of innocence had been lost. He just hadn't brought it up again, maybe knowing a lost fight when he saw one. How could he ever thank him?

"Give Padme my best wishes as well," Obi-Wan said, still in that soft, slightly strained voice, interrupting his thoughts. The dismissal was clear.

"I..."

"_Anakin_."

There it was again, that gentle, patient tone that he had once been so hated, then grown accustomed, and now was a comfort. It was also a tone that brooked no argument.

"Yes, yes I will. Thank you, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan dipped his head in acknowledgement, at the same time ushering him to the door.

"We will stay in contact, right?" Anakin couldn't help but asking, already in the doorway.

Again, that barely perceptible strained smile. "Of course, Anakin."

And with that the door closed behind him with a soft swoosh. He should have been happy. It was over, he had confessed, he had done it. But all he could think of were Obi-Wan's eyes - a pale, sad grey where once blue and green had also resided.

Part II

For what felt like the hundredth time in the last two years Bant was woken in the middle of the night by her comlink beeping urgently. As every time she had to battle rising fear and apprehension as she quickly got up, dressed, and hurried through the dark, empty halls to the Halls of Healing. There was only one instance in which her comlink went off during the night - when her personal charge got in.  
And as expected, when she reached the brightly lit center of healing on the Temple, the only part that never completely closed down during the night especially now during the war, a group of emergency healers rushed by with a litter bearing a bloodied human male.  
The easy-going Mon Calamari cursed softly under her breath - a habit she had developed over the last two years as well. "What have you gotten yourself into this time, Obi?"

The next ten minutes were only remained in her memory as a blur of hectic motion, as her Jedi friend was stabilized and the severity of his wounds evaluated. That done, Bant collapsed into a chair next to his bed, heaving a sigh of relief. Most of the blood wasn't his, Obi-Wan had only sustained a fairly treatable leg-injury 9if she had to guess she would say flying shrapnel); but even that was critical in his state of constant pain due to his former condition. He would live - this time. She had lost track of the number of arguments they had had over the course of the last years about his constantly putting himself in danger in the front lines no matter that he was ill and _dying_. Being his usual stubborn self, Obi-Wan steadfastly refused to be taken of active duty "until the illness made him a liability". Of course no one could really evaluate if the illness made him a liability or not as her friend had the annoying habit of skillfully hiding any sign of weakness. Ever since Anakin had deserted the Order, he had obviously felt that he needed to compensate for that. To take as many and dangerous missions as "The Team" had, even though he was alone now.

Sitting at her ailing friend's bed side now, not knowing when one of his missions would really cost his life, Bant couldn't help but hate the war that had ruined so many lives, and was still ruining more.

A voice shook her out of her dark thoughts.

"Don't be sad, Bant." His voice was hoarse, but it was there. Tired eyes fixed on her. "At least not for me."

Meeting his gaze squarely, she said softly, "How can I not grieve for you, Obi? You are throwing your life away with these missions! How can I know when you will simply not return?"

He sighed quietly. "Do we need to have this discussion again, Bant? My life is already forfeit, I might as well use it for something good." His eyes showed sympathy, but his face remained calm, unemotional. "I would go crazy sitting at the Temple, doing nothing but wait to die. Do you want that for me?"

"Of course not!" Bant replied, frustrated. "But you could also take less risky missions. Or you could teach..."

"No." His entire face closed off, with that one icy word. "I cannot and will not teach."

Bant hesitated, this was a touchy subject, bu then she took his limp hand in hers, whispering, "Obi, what happened with Anakin wasn't your fault."

Pain flashed through his eyes, yet he did not reply, his silence saying as much as any words could have. She sighed, knowing that any attempt to convince him of the truth would be less than fruitful.

And thus the night passed, in silence, but their hands never separated.

Anakin should have been happy, excited even. He and Padme had been married for three years now and they were expecting their first child. It was a beautiful sunny morning, and his healthy wife was sitting next to him in the couch munching on some pancakes he'd laboriously assembled. Yet he felt uneasy, restless. So much so that Padme couldn't help but notice (never mind that she would have noticed it even if it was only a small amount of unease as well - she was a sharp woman).

"Anakin, love, what's wrong?"

His shoulders twitched in a shrug. He knew better than to pretend nothing was the matter. "I…don't know."

Her elegant eyebrows rose. "Really."

"Sometimes the force just, like nudges you, but not a whole lot more," Anakin said, struggling to explain. "Something is coming, but I don't know what."

Padme sighed. "I guess there's nothing you can do then. I have to be off to the Senate."

"You should really take off from work, our child is going to be born soon," Anakin complained, half-knowing it was completely useless.

Predictably, Padme fired right back. "Anakin, I do _not _need to be coddled! I'm perfectly fine!"

Sighing, Anakin reflected that sometimes his wife and former Master were way too much alike. At the thought of Obi-Wan regret flared to life as it always did. He had barely seen or spoken to him since the fateful day he'd decided to leave the Jedi Order to live with Padme. The estrangement hurt, and hadn't stopped bothering for the last two years, but he felt that he had no right to intrude on his old Master's life when he had been the one leaving – Padme thought he was an idiot for not at least trying to make things right between them, but shame and guilt stayed his hand. Obi-Wan. Now that he thought about it, the unease seemed to be centered around him. Just as he had come to that realization, the com-console chimed in the next room. A minute later Padme stuck her head back into the living room, a strange expression on her face. "It's for you."

His heart falling to his stomach, Anakin got up to answer the call. He had not expected, however, to find a holographic image of none other than Quinlan Vos.

"Master Vos? Why are you calling me?"

Even his transparent little figure looked grim. "Since you and Obi-Wan obviously can't manage to sort out your own problems, I have decided to go and meddle a bit.'

If that hadn't sounded so ominous Anakin would have smiled at his directness. No beating around the bush with Master Vos, that was for sure.

"Obi-Wan wouldn't want to me to tell you this, but he is way too stubborn for his own good. Skywalker, for the last two years Obi-Wan has taken more and more risky missions – he doesn't return from one of them unhurt, I hear. He is working himself into the ground, never taking time off to catch a break. Also, he seems to be hiding something. Frankly, he has me worried." He looked away for a second, then resumed. "You need to go and do whatever you have to do to fix this. You have broken him, Skywalker. I'm sure it wasn't your intention, even though even a complete idiot could have foreseen this, but that doesn't change the fact that sooner or later he will get himself killed if he carries on like this."

Anakin didn't know what to say. "I…"

"I don't care how hard this is, Skywalker. Go!" And with that the connection went dead.

For several minutes Anakin just stood there, motionless, his mind refusing to work. All he could think of were Vos' words, echoing in his head. _'You have broken him…'_.

Abruptly reaching a decision, he grabbed his coat and left to do what he bitterly reflected he should have done years ago.

To say that he got some odd looks going through the Jedi Temple for the first time in two years, would have been an understatement. Anakin didn't even notice. Far too early he reached Obi-Wan's quarter's door. Hesitating, he just stood there for a few seconds, trying to assembled enough courage to ring the bell, but fortunately – or unfortunately as a part of his mind screamed a little hysterically – the choice was made for him when the door opened without prompting, revealing Obi-Wan, looking more surprised than Anakin had thought possible.

"Anakin?"

"Can I come in?" he asked, uncertain.

Obi-Wan nodded mutely, stepping aside.

Settling down in a humorless parody of the last time they had been in these quarters together, Anakin got a good look at his old Master for the first time – and was dismayed at what he saw. Obi-Wan looked everything but healthy. He seemed to have lost a considerable amount of weight, there was a fresh bandage on his left leg, there were large bags under his eyes hinting at loss of sleep, but worst of all, his grey eyes held a haunted, hollow look, worse than anything he had ever seen in them before.

"Obi-Wan, what _happened_ to you?" Anakin spluttered, for a moment forgetting that they hadn't been in contact for two years.

"I'm fine," Obi-Wan replied stiffly.

Anakin stared at him, askance. "Fine my ass! You look half-dead!"

The lines around his old Master's mouth tightened. "You could say so," he murmured with an ironic half-smile.

"What?"

"Never mind. Why are you here, Anakin?"

Anakin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I know I should have done this earlier, but…I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. I never wanted you to be hurt by my leaving the Order."

Obi-Wan's gaze sharpened. "Who told you?"

Anakin sighed mentally. Typical, you never could sneak anything by his old Master. "Told me what?"

"You know what I mean!"

"Fine. It was Quinlan Vos, okay," Anakin admitted. "I had to find out from _him _that you are working yourself to death!"

One look at Obi-Wan's face made Anakin very glad not to be Quinlan Vos at the moment. He looked like he very much would like to kill him right now. "Let me guess; he told you it was your fault I'm 'throwing my life away' and that you needed to go and make it all better."

"…something like that."

Obi-Wan leaned forward, for the first time showing intensity. "Anakin, listen to me. I can't pretend that it didn't hurt me, but this _is not_ your fault."

"Right," Anakin said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "you are just killing yourself for no reason."

"No Anakin, you aren't to blame," Obi-Wan persisted.

Anakin locked gazes with him. "Then what is?" he demanded.

Suddenly Obi-Wan looked even older and more tired. "Go home, Anakin. Forget about me, be happy with Padme and your future children. Just go."

Anakin stared at him, unbelieving. "You really expect me to go without you telling me what is wrong?"

"Yes Anakin, I do," Obi-Wan said, completely serious. " I can promise you this; you cannot help me in any event."

"I am going nowhere until you tell me what's going on!" Anakin said, defiantly crossing his arms.

For a long moment Obi-Wan just looked at him. Then he said, horribly matter-of-factly, "I am dying."

Anakin stared at him in shock, his heart plummeting. "This is a joke, right?"

Obi-Wan shook his head, pity in his eyes. "I'm afraid not."

"You…what…" Anakin was floundering. "When? _How_?"

"Antar 4. Virus. It's slowly killing me."

Suddenly it all made sense. This was the missing piece of the puzzle. "That's why you were puking blood on that mission? That's why you were so resigned when I told you I was leaving the order? That's why you are taking all these suicidal missions?"

"Yes, and yes," Obi-Wan sighed.

Belatedly, the grief came rushing, full force. "How long…?" he asked, swallowing a lump in his throat, wanting, needing to know the answer, yet fearing it.

"I don't know," Obi-Wan replied, shrugging. "Soon."

Anakin resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands. How could Obi-Wan be so strong, so calm, knowing he was dying? How did he manage to live with that knowledge for two years? With a guilty start he realized that he _hadn't been there_ for those years. He should say something, should explain himself, should help Obi-Wan somehow, but all he could force out was, "I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan nodded, his eyes softening. "I know, Anakin."

A tremor in the force was the only sign. Anakin looked down at the new-born baby in his arms, fighting not to be overwhelmed by sorrow. He could not and would not appreciate the irony that his one tie to his old life had died on the same day that two bonds to his new life had awakened.


End file.
